


Drawn

by peaceloveandjocularity, stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26905618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peaceloveandjocularity/pseuds/peaceloveandjocularity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: The 4077th's need for blood donors brings about some unexpected revelations.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Kudos: 9





	Drawn

The strangest day of Charles Emerson Winchester III’s life began in the 4077th’s excuse for a blood bank - a long, wooden building full of gurneys for collection and refrigerators for storage. A hand drawn Dracula poster adorned the doorway with the count extending a finger to say, “I Vant Your Blood!” Inside, Radar was sweeping the floors, singing a bit of doggerel the men had made up: “Blood, blood, gallons of the stuff. I give you all that you can drink but it will never be enough.”

Klinger was allowing his exceedingly rare blood (B negative) to be siphoned off for the wounded due to arrive the next day. The nurse overseeing the transfusion was having trouble finding a vein, however. Charles watched her dig and prod under the skin. He saw Klinger pale, a sheen of sweat appearing on his skin. Walking over, he took the set up out of her hands and guided the needle himself.

“Thank you, Major.” The Corporal sounded a little sick.

“I despise medical incompetence- especially in the simple procedures.” He didn’t care that the nurse heard him; she should learn to do her job. Satisfied that the blood was now flowing correctly, he shifted his eyes from the set up to Klinger. “I had no idea you were so afraid of needles.”

“Saw that, did you?” He looked a little embarrassed.

“I saw you stick it out, too, if you’ll forgive the pun. Admirable. I don’t suppose you’d allow me to give you some advice for next time?”

“Sure.”

“There’s a way to take your focus away from your arm. It’s something like getting your body to ‘look’ elsewhere. Can I show you?”

“You’re the doctor, Major.”

_ I’ve missed this, _ Charles reflected. Back in Boston, he had enjoyed teaching surgical techniques to internists. This was nowhere near as complicated, but it served a good end if it kept Klinger off of the hardwood. He took the Corporal’s left hand and placed it palm down. Using two fingers, he felt around the pad of skin between Klinger’s thumb and index finger. Making a clamp out of his thumb and index finger, Winchester bore down. He was pleased to see Klinger react by scooting backward a little. “See? And the beauty of it is, you can do it yourself.”

Klinger almost chuckled at that. _ In Korea _ , he thought _ , I have to do everything by myself! The only touch I ever experience is Zale trying to punch me out! _

And now this.

He looked down at the long fingered hand rubbing a steady circle around the pressure point and he shivered. That hand was beautiful. It looked like it ought to be cast in bronze.

“Corporal? You aren’t going to swoon on me, are you?”

“This is the wrong dress for it.”

Charles released his hand, imagining that Klinger had been affected by the sight of his blood moving through tubing. “Wait a moment.” He rummaged in one of the refrigerators for juice. “It’s only powdered, but the sugar is real.”

“Thanks.” He sipped at liquid. “Will you show me again?”

“Of course.” He pinched the triangle of flesh and rolled the pads of his fingers back and forth. “Here.” Was he imagining things or had Klinger closed his eyes just for a moment? Charles watched and saw his blue-black lashes alight on his cheeks for just a second under his touch.

_ It’s the blood _ , he told himself.  _ The blood and the way that needle was digging away under his skin. He’s just a little faint. That’s all. _

But what if it wasn’t? What if Klinger was, he could think of no other way to phrase it, responding to him? What would happen if he massaged not just this small circle but the entirety of his hand?

_ I must be coming down with something. That, or being chronically sleep deprived has finally caught up with me. _

Pushing aside the entirely bizarre string of thoughts he’d just had, he released Klinger’s hand and tried to ignore the abrupt sense of disconnect, the way his now empty fingers felt bereft. “Now you try.”

Klinger repeated the gesture to his satisfaction and even used it later when Charles dismantled the tubing and withdrew the needle. After a few minutes’ rest to ensure that he wouldn’t crumple to the floor, Charles released the Corporal back into the sunshine. When he turned around, Major Margaret Houlihan was watching him with a very amused expression.

“Charles, what on Earth was all that?”

“To what are you referring, Margaret?” He assumed she was going to lay into him for interfering with one of her nurses. She could ride herd over them all she liked, but she’d rise up and strike like a viper if anyone thought about mimicking her tactics.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I saw you in there. Something happened between you two just now.”

“Nonsense! I was merely demonstrating a technique for distracting him from pain.”

Her laughter contained so much brightness that he half expected sun spots to show against the polished floor. “Oh, you distracted him all right. But now what are you going to do with him?”

“Margaret, I would never have thought you capable of such girlish fancies!”

“That’s Major to you, Major, and trying to insult me isn’t going to solve your problem.”

“I’m not having a problem!” He noticed Radar regarding them. “Can I help you, Corporal?” 

“No, sir. But for what it’s worth, I agree with the Major on this one.” Then he scurried off before Charles could shout at him.

Winchester turned back to Margaret with a glare. “Thank you, Margaret. Now this fable you’ve concocted will be on everyone’s lips by supper!”

“I won’t allow it,” she said, hands on her hips. “Besides, Radar and Klinger are friends. But if he does give them something to talk about, shouldn’t you get something out of it?”

His eyes were angry and suspicious. “Such as?”

“Personally, I think you should take this thing out for a spin. What’ll it hurt?”

“It’s against regulations!”

“Oh please! As if you care about regulations. You’re just being a coward. Don’t you miss being touched, Charles? Held?”

These were not the questions he’d been expecting. “Well, of course, but Klinger?”

“He’s a very sensual person. Look at all the velvet he wears or the way he pets that stole of his. Take advantage- let him pet you a little.”

“Margaret!”

“What, Charles? I’m not going to feel sorry for you. Don’t you get how lucky you are? You’ve got someone to kiss! To hold! To just lay down next to and not feel like you’ve been exiled on the moon!”

“You got all that from two fingers on a pressure point, did you?”

“I got all that from the way he was looking at you. Idiot.” She thought about sparing him the next part but decided against it. “And the way you were looking back. I’ve never seen you go so soft.”

“Now I understand the propensity of your staff to go digging around after veins! They must learn it from you!”

“You men are all alike!” she shot back. “You wail about how damn miserable you all are, but let someone show you any kindness and you bite their hands off!”

He blinked, blindsided. “You imagine that you are being kind!?!”

“I’m trying to keep you from missing a chance, so, yeah, I call that kind. If you don’t want him, that’s well enough, but think hard before you say no. There’s a lot of lonely people here who would love to have the opportunity that’s got you so up in arms.”

It humbled him. “I-I take your point. I apologize, Margaret.”

She nodded, satisfied, and clasped his hand to say that she accepted. “Good. And one other thing.”

“Yes, Major?”

“Don’t break his heart, okay? Turn him down if you want to, but be the gentleman you’re always calling yourself. The rest of us are awful fond of Klinger and I for one don’t want to have to pick the pieces of him up out of a dust pan. Understand?”

He saluted her, heels coming audibly together. It was her favorite sign of respect and she smiled broadly in answer.

***

Winchester had once heard a historian discussing the difference between how wars were imagined (it will be over by Christmas) and the way they played out (bodies nearly vaporized by a hail of bullets, poison gas). How, he wondered, did the Americans at home imagine this blood? Did they know that it had varieties? Shades? A smell? Would they believe the way it stung when it got into your eyes? Could they wrap their minds around what it felt like to feel it clot and cool on the skin? Could they understand that they could be deluged by the red stuff - that it could be everywhere - and that they could still need it, desperately, to pump into the bodies they were fighting to keep in the land of the living?

At the end of his shift, Winchester turned his eyes from the corpsmen mopping the stuff from the floor, from the water sluicing over his hands, turning pink. He knew where some of that donated blood had come from; he thought of a warm hand, held loosely in his.  _ Don’t you miss being touched? Held _ ? Margaret’s voice echoed in his mind.

Klinger answered when he knocked. “Major? Everything okay?”

“Yes. May I come in?”

“Sure. Sir, are you okay? You look done in.”

“I was about to say the same. You can’t give blood and then haul litters, Corporal.” He guessed that Klinger was probably dehydrated, his blood sugar bottomed out.

“Aw, it’s nothing I haven’t done before. You know how it is. Everybody has to pitch in. I don’t remember you stopping to eat, either.”

It was true. “Were the needles easier to handle at least?”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I remembered the trick you taught me.” He nodded at Winchester’s hands. “Want me to return the favor? Seven hours with a scalpel - you’ve gotta be hurting.”

He saw that Charles was about to decline - either out of pride or out of concern that Klinger was too tired to take on the task - and he gave his most winning look. “C’mon, Major. Please?”

Charles surrendered his long fingers to Klinger’s touch. As soon as his fingers began working on his wrist, that feeling from the blood bank returned. He searched Klinger’s face. The Corporal nodded agreement to the question Charles hadn’t voiced. They stared at each other in silence. Klinger looked scared to death, but he didn’t let go.

The hand that wasn’t being worked over reached out; fingers that were brilliant with a scalpel or while playing music stumbled over Klinger’s lips in a clumsy caress. Klinger turned his head into those fingers and kissed them in welcome.

Charles looked dumbfounded. “Max?” He realized in that moment that when the Corporal had said, “Please?” he was asking for more than the right to massage his aching fingers, which he continued to do. 

“It’s alright,” Klinger said breathlessly, mostly to himself, Charles suspected. “It’s okay.” He kept up these gentle reassurances even as he replaced the pressure of his hands with the hungry warmth of his lips. Charles splayed his fingers, giving his permission, as Klinger knelt. Charles followed him down; they faced each other knee to knee and the wild hope in Klinger’s eyes made it feel more solemn than either the day he had taken his medical oath or the day he’d sworn loyalty to the US army. 

_ I won’t hurt you _ , he wanted to tell the lithe young thing worshipping his hands as if he held them as sacred as Winchester did.  _ I will never, never hurt you _ and the thought seemed more than half mad until he realized that he was a doctor even now and he could feel how  _ afraid _ Klinger was even as he reached for him. He had scolded Margaret about regulations, but he realized then that the greatest risk in this was not his. 

Klinger’s fear underscored his advantages.  _ He  _ was the superior officer, had superior education, had wealth and power… anything he got into, Klinger probably suspected, his rank or his family could get him out.  _ But I don’t  _ **_want_ ** _ out.  _ But how could he tell Klinger that? 

Maybe he could show him. “Darling, you’re exhausted. You haven’t eaten in hours. Let me take care of you.” 

Klinger nodded, but he clearly hadn’t expected what came next. Charles bundled him into his cot and held him, kept him warm, while he got him to take sips of sweetened tea. He’d raided his own stash for the sugar, for crackers, and for a cashmere blanket that seemed to like being tangled up with Klinger as much as he was starting to. 

“You look a bit bewildered, dear girl. Blood sugar?”

“Some, maybe. Being close to you.” He traced his hands again. “This is real?” 

“You expected something else?”

“I’m outta my league with you, Major. I never know what to expect.” 

“You look happy about it.” 

“You make me happy. Have since you got here.” 

“I have not always been good to you,” Charles reminded him. 

“You’re making it up, aren’t you?” 

“I am getting the best of it. You feel… you are really very nice to hold, Max.” He stroked his dark hair. “I believe you will be just as nice to kiss.” 

“Is there something stopping you from finding out, Major?” 

It made him laugh. “Only that I believe you need care more, tonight, than kisses.” Content that the too-thin Corporal had eaten a little, Charles sat the dishes to the side and did his best to make them both comfortable in the small space of the cot. Klinger was shy, yet, but he let himself be tucked in against the taller man and made happy sounds when Charles conceded to kiss his hands, blessing the marks made by IV needles. 

“I mean to take care of you from now on,” he said into his skin. “If you will be mine, Max?” 

Klinger didn’t tell him - Charles would probably dismiss it as gypsy voodoo or superstition - but he was pretty sure he’d always belonged to the Major, even way back before he’d ever set eyes on him. Now, with Charles willing to be his in turn, he could finally let go of being scared all the time, finally start to believe he might get out of this awful place in one piece. “I’ve always been yours for the asking, Major baby.” 

Charles drew him close, said a silent blessing meant for Margaret Houlihan, and promised he wouldn’t let go. 

End! 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Radar's little rhyme is song lyrics I borrowed. No copyright infringement intended - I just thought it was funny. Thank you to peaceloveandjocularity for fixing Margaret's dialogue! <3


End file.
